Can't Hold it Back Anymore
by DoYouWannaBeAWizard
Summary: Elsanna Modern AU. Anna and Elsa are discovering the... intensity of their feelings, and they can't hold it back anymore. Incest, read ONLY if you're okay with that. I'll figure out the precise direction of this story after a few chapters. For the moment I just need to get it out of my head! EDIT: I have begun to plan a direction for this story now! Prepare for feels.
1. Chapter 1

Peas are being pushed around my plate - by my own fork, actually - but not with any conscious effort. I'm staring past them, past the pasty white plate, suddenly feeling the incredible weight of my recent bouts of sleep deprivation. Getting through dinner had never felt so tiring. _If my eyes are open I'm technically awake, right?_

My reaction to the sudden brush of cold skin on my leg under the table proves me wrong. _Holy shit, those are cold feet! _I snap my head up which had been drooping further and further toward the unwanted peas and make eye contact with my sister across the table. She's fighting back a smile as she gives me a look that suggests I missed something._  
_

Feeling a little shaken, back in the world of the conscious, I glance over to my mom who's sitting next to Elsa, staring at me expectantly. I'm helplessly clueless and turn further to see Dad beside me, serving himself more hamburger helper. He is not about to help me out of this one. "Uh, what were you saying...?" I ask my mom, "I was, uh –"

"– Inspecting the peas?" Elsa interrupts, sly as usual. That's my sister, always one to make the problem worse. "Staring holes through them doesn't make them go away." She winks one perfect little icy eye at me and I look at Mom again.

"Sorry."

"That head of yours, I swear half the time you have no idea what's going on around you, Anna," my mom says, lightly pointing her fork at me. Luckily, it doesn't seem like she's mad, so I just shrink my neck down sheepishly and take a bite of food while she continues. "We were talking about this Saturday. What you and Elsa are going to do for dinner…?"

Oh, right. My parents are going to be gone Saturday night. Another meeting for their little Jim Beam bottle collectors club. Parents, man, what are you gonna do? Well at least Elsa and I get to hang out! Although a strange twinge runs past my stomach as I recall what happened last time we 'hung out.' Things have been changing between us and it's wrong. It's so wrong. But I love it.

Remembering the question, I glance at Elsa and my mom. "I don't care. I mean, I don't know, anything's fine. We can have Totino's. Do we have some?" Totino's pizza is our thing; Els and I have them basically every time we have to do dinner on our own; either that or the pizza rolls. It's actually a wonder my mom even has to ask.

"We should have two in the freezer; I bought some last week. Does that sound okay, Elsa?" my mom asks, as if she needed to.

Elsa just grins. "Yeah, of course." I watch as she finishes off her glass of milk, licking her lips as she places the empty glass on the table. More eye contact. My cheeks flame; I can feel it. But why? Why would I blush at that? It's just my older sister doing something as normal as drinking from a glass at the dinner table. _And flicking that tongue out to catch the drip-_

"Uh, I need to go to the bathroom," I say, pushing myself away from the table. "I'm dull, no fun. Um done – I'm full." _Jesus._

I can't escape the room quickly enough.

* * *

I don't really know how to handle this.

This whole… situation.

Elsa and I were really close when we were little… but we grew up – like people do – and siblings don't always keep that tight bond. We were lucky, actually. We never really fought and split, per se, we'd just sort of tattle on each other, annoy the shit out of each other; we basically became two different people who started not sharing everything anymore.

But we were still sort of "close" sisters.

We certainly didn't hate each other.

Things started changing when I was a freshman in high school. Elsa was a senior, and my chauffeur. We started spending a lot of time together, in the car, in school, even after school. It's like we started getting to know each other again, and it was awesome! After she graduated, she decided to stay at home and commute to one of the universities in town.

When people asked, she always said it was to save money, but in private she told me her true motive for living at home: she didn't want to lose what bond we had just been starting to restore. And that if spending a few more years under this roof would help make us closer, she was willing to give up going to an art school of her dreams.

And if _she_ ever asked I'd say my thanks and giggle and hug her, but in private? Oh, in private I'd cry at night, so moved by her sacrifice, so grateful it hurt. She meant the world to me at that point, and I was sure she had no idea.

Elsa and I only grew closer since then. And with the help of the person who I can easily call my best friend, I made it through high school. Now I'm a freshman in college and I chose the same living situation as she did. Call me a copycat, but I wasn't about to shove her choice to be with me in her face by moving away so soon myself. So I go to another university in town, not the same, but not rivals. Kind of like the story of our lives.

Well, it would only truly be accurate if the two colleges quite recently started getting much, much friendlier than is acceptable, because… well, yeah.

So, this year, things changed. Well, things are in the _process_ of changing. And God it's so weird.

I've started, like, _staring_ at Elsa. She's just so… beautiful is too weak a word. She's just so marvelously exquisite. How I _wish_ we shared more genes. (How I wish we shared _no_ genes!) But she looks at me too! I've caught her, just like she's caught me. And then we make eye contact and you'd think it'd be over but neither of us looks away and minutes pass before one of us ends it.

Like… that's not normal. We're _sisters_. We don't intensely bore our eyes into each other's in longing. Or at least, we shouldn't. But we do…?

And that's been going on for at least six months. Now when we hug or cuddle, like we always have, it seems different. There's a different quality in the air. Different vibes. A good different. Well, it _feels_ good-different. I don't think it actually _is_ good-different.

Because I know what it is, the stuff that's in the air. And it terrifies me.

Because it's sexual tension.

And that is not what occupies the space in the air between _any_ siblings I know.

The tension is so bad. God, it's awful. I just want it to end but when I think about _how_ tension ends and what that would entail… good _heavens_, I get flustered. It's bad. I dream about it at night and wake up sweaty and aroused. I day-dream about it when I'm awake, about her, about touching her, her touching me, and it forces me to take a cold shower just to get it out of my head; to get clean; feel clean.

I'll never feel clean.

Elsa has never stopped touching me, we still cuddle and snuggle like we used to when it felt innocent. We still poke each other in the sides and stomachs and sling our arms around each other and sit so close we're overlapping and play with our hair and scratch our backs… The only thing that has changed is what the touches _mean_. How I _feel _when our skin connects, when I can feel the shape of her body pressed against mine in an embrace. The thoughts that fleet through my mind before I can push them out when we lay all over each other on the couch to settle down and read some books…

God nothing's changed, but everything has.

And the last time… when our parents were away one night last month, it was just normal. It really was. We were just hanging out together, watching a random movie. Actually, it was Lion King; this is important. Of course it's important; it's our favorite, but anyway. Anyway, we were bawling in each other's arms as Mufasa… when Scar… well you know the fucking story. It gets us every time – I hate this movie – damn feels.

And we pause it while our hearts are busy being trampled by a thousand fucking animals who don't even fucking care (sorry again, it's a sore subject) and we are literally just crying because Elsa said something about siblings, they were siblings, how could he; and I cried harder and promised that you're not siblings when there's that much hate, that much emotion, you can't have that much emotion and just be siblings, you're not siblings if there's this much love, and – oh God love? What did I just say? This wasn't about love; this wasn't about _us_. And she didn't even skip a beat; we hug tighter and Elsa, she tells me that we love each other too much, that she knows it and I know it, but that it doesn't even matter, love will always win, love is always better than hate, and who could hate us for our love? And it was all just so emotionally draining, we fell asleep like that, tears drying on our faces, the movie paused, the couch holding up the weight of our love, our love that's too heavy for sisters to bear.

God, Elsa. What are we going to do?


	2. Chapter 2

Honestly, Elsa and I haven't really confronted the issue since that night. It's been a few weeks. We act like nothing's changed. Well, not that _nothing's_ changed. Just that nothing's _further_ changed. We both know that everything is different from what it was a few short months ago, when we were just great sisters, but we accept that. What we're avoiding is the subject of that specific conversation, that specific night. We pretend we haven't crossed some kind of line in our increasingly immoral relationship.

We continue to go about our college lives under the same roof, with our parents. Bless their souls, they have no idea. Lord knows what I'd do if they found out the thoughts I've been harboring in my sick mind about my sister. Since the Lion King, the dreams have been becoming more difficult to deal with. I have awful fantasies running through my head and they never leave. They resurface at the most inopportune moments, leaving me to try thinking of something else; anything else. Everything else, else. Else? Elsa.

_Dammit._

After dinner, Elsa and I work on class work in my room. We share the bed, lying across it on our stomachs, papers everywhere. She's working on her senior thesis for art: drawing sketches and planning something fabulous, I'm sure (but she won't let me see it yet).

While her major is fine art, mine is art history. I'm the best art appreciator in town, but if you actually want a picture, Elsa's the girl to talk to.

When I get stuck on something for one of my Gen Ed courses, she drops everything and comes up behind my shoulder, holding herself above me, looking at the problem. And my biggest problem switches from the textbook to my spinal cord, because hot damn – Elsa breathing down my neck, so close to me… It gives me chills.

I'm not even joking, it gives me actual chills. My sister is always so cold!

She's always given off a certain icy charm, and cuddling is usually best done with blankets, but right now I don't think I've ever felt such cool breath over my shoulder, on my neck. It's like there's frost infused with the air she lets out, sparkling with crystals as it hits my warm skin.

With a shiver, I listen to Elsa's explanation of the material and suddenly I think I start to get it enough to continue with my work. Let me just say, I have the brightest sister in the world; she knows so much and she's so good at explaining everything. I honestly think she should be a teacher. Or write textbooks that actually help a kid out. She's just really talented and… and wow I need to focus. I can't keep going off on how unbelievably perfect my sister is, or I'll never get anything done.

Because it's true; Elsa is more beautiful, more intelligent, more tenderhearted, more _everything_-_good_ than anyone. Than me. I'll never deserve her.

With a sigh, I try to work out the problem, almost forgetting everything she just explained. I glance at her as she fiercely sketches, her tongue out, and lip-biting in full swing. _That's actually pretty hard to do_… I try it out myself and possibly over-do it a bit as I tilt my head so far to the side in misguided hopes of helping do the thing, that I lose my balance and almost roll off the bed. Never deterred, I continue to try making the face, eyebrows unnecessarily scrunching up and down, really all over the place. My eyes bug out and squint down in concentration as I grow more frustrated with my face's muscles and the magical qualities they do not possess.

I only stop my efforts when a crumpled piece of paper smacks against my face. Apparently Elsa had been watching me ever since the almost-falling-off-the-bed thing happened. I pause, tongue sticking out, teeth biting it, one eye squinted shut, and head sideways. I see my sister. She stares at me, desperately trying to look serious; really, I give her credit for that. But I can hear the amusement in her voice as she accuses me of making fun of her facial expressions and drawing techniques.

My face returns to its normal, plain state of being and I defend myself. "Els, come on, I love your face. I wouldn't make fun of you. I just wanted to try what you were doing but it's so hard. Seriously, how do you do that incredible thing with your mouth? I want to do it too."

When she let out a soft chuckle I ran the words I said through my brain again and my eyes bulged. "Wait, what? Elsa!"

"Anna," she said in a sad, helpless tone, "I really can't tell you how to do that incredible thing with my mouth. Unfortunately, I'd have to demonstrate it in a more… hands-on approach." That smirk was going to give me cardiac arrest.

Frozen in my bones, I sit there as she leans toward me until our faces are inches apart. "You just sort of…" She trails off as she licks the edge of her lip and rakes her teeth across it one strange motion that ends up in the pose I tried so desperately to achieve. Her blue eyes, in all their icy-fractal-glory, meet mine and glint with a teasing look. _It all looks so much sexier up close._

Woah, sexy? Anna, chill.

One soft finger touches my lip as Elsa tries to direct me in her step-by-step method. "Bring your tongue across here." I can feel her breath on my face as she sweeps her fingertip along the edge of my mouth. "And then follow it with your teeth, and try to trap your tongue and lip together."

I tried what she said but her finger lingered in a dangerous spot and I accidentally licked it and bit it – all in one disastrous action.

Elsa sucked in a breath and I quickly released her finger, grabbing her hand with mine. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean- I'm sorry." I placed a kiss on her finger to heal it. "I think I'll leave the mouth stuff up to you."

A pause.

"Elsa – _God_ – not like that."

* * *

That was Thursday night. Now it's Friday! And there are no classes today! Well… mine are just cancelled but Elsa _never_ has class on Fridays this semester (_so _damn jealous). So of course, the only logical thing to do is spend the day as a family and take a trip to the big awesome mall in the next town over, Corona City. It's where our cousin Rapunzel lives, so we've been there to visit before. But I doubt we'll be seeing her today on such a spontaneous day-trip.

I pack enough stuff to keep an average person entertained for hours (our trip is going to be 45 minutes) but I know I'll be bored with everything halfway there so I go warn Elsa that she better be in the mood for games and talking.

"Oh I'm always in the mood for messing around with you, Anna."

"Elsa!" I look around instinctively but we're alone in her bedroom, thank goodness. "You can't just keep saying things like that."

"But you like it, don't you?" she asks as innocently as possible. I smack her arm playfully.

"Of course, I love _everything about you_, but you know, we're sisters and we have to at least _try_ to pretend there's nothing going on between us when we're around other people. So just… be careful okay? Please."

"Anna, you do know nothing _has happened_ between us, right?" Okay, so sometimes I forget that half of the problem is what exists in my head. Elsa continued, "_Yet_, I mean. We have done nothing wrong yet. Not saying I'm opposed to something happening, _or_ that we should act on these feelings at all, I'm not saying anything." She raises her hands in surrender. "Just that… to anyone else, everything we do or say, short of _kissing_ each other will be dismissed as sisterly love or some kind of inside joke. There's nothing to fear."

So… what did she just say? She wants something to happen?! Oh my God, the tension burns me. Kissing each other? Why did she have to say that? And right before our trip, too. Now I'll have that image burning in my mind.

Ugh just imagine, leaning in closer to that gorgeous face, touching her soft cheeks, her hair – oh Elsa's _hair_. Running my fingers through her hair is my favorite thing to do, and then – her lips, my lips, they'd touch and…

"Anna."

I open my eyes.

"Anna, what are you thinking? You never said anything." Elsa's eyes flicker in worry.

Truth or lies? _Truth or lies, Anna? Quick, decide._

_Oh fuck it; when have lies ever worked out for anyone?_

"I… was thinking about kissing you."

The silence that follows is enough to make me wish I was a liar. I bury my face in my hands, not wanting to see Elsa's reaction. _She doesn't want you like that, she's never had dreams like yours, and she would never actually kiss your stupid face._

My dark thoughts are interrupted by a chilly hand enclosing itself around one of my wrists. With a simple tug, my hands fall away and I'm pulled into an embrace by my sister. Weak at the knees, I'm bent over enough for Elsa to rest her chin on the top of my head as she tightly wraps her arms around my body. I clutch at her petite back, my face turned into her chest, and I exhale, never having felt so close to her.

In her arms is my new favorite place to be. I feel something come over me and I struggle to find words that could describe it. In my mind just one thought washes up like the pulse of a tidal wave.

_Safe... Safe… Safe..._

Before long, however, I am suddenly extremely aware of my cheek touching – literally – her chest. There's skin on skin contact; her top is a little low-cut. My heart rises to my throat and I peek down through my eyelashes to see something- and well, _wow_, is that an eyeful of breast, or what? Oh my. Oh Elsa.

Before I have a chance to really make a fool of myself, I feel her shift and place a kiss on my forehead. The simple gesture sends my heart racing faster than I've ever felt it go. I'm slightly concerned for my health when Mom calls out to us from downstairs.

"Ready to go, girls?"

I reluctantly step out of Elsa's arms, only to lean in once more and give the lightest of all kisses on her nose, before grabbing my bag of distractions and I skip into the hallway.

"Yeah, we're coming!"

* * *

As it turns out, my bag is sitting, untouched, at my feet and we're ten minutes away from the mall. In the backseat of the car, Elsa and I sit, watching the scenery flash by our windows, seemingly uninterested in anything at all. That is, aside from our joined hands resting under a blanket between us on the seat, out of view from our parents in the front of the car. Even if they were visible, however, Mom was busy driving and Dad was fast asleep in the passenger seat (which is not unusual at all for him).

Elsa's thumb has slowly been drawing small circles on my hand from the moment we pulled out of the driveway. At first it was so stimulating and… erotic, but after a few minutes I allowed myself to relax and enjoy the light sensations without getting worked up about it. Now it's so rhythmic and steady that my entire hand feels numb. I turn my head to sneak a peek at my sister and we share a soft grin.

I squeeze Elsa's hand, but mine has really fallen asleep, and it makes my whole arm feel funky, like it's not connected to my body. I am forced to reclaim my hand as I shake it out with a laugh, trying to feel with it again. It starts to tingle and get the pin-pricks and I vocalize exactly how I feel with a series of odd sounds ranging from a hyena's coughing fit to a birthing cow.

Mom glances in the mirror and her eyebrows crawl up her forehead. "What's going on back there? I should have known something was up; you two have been so quiet the whole ride. Especially you, Miss Anna."

"Me?" I exclaim, in fake surprise. "It's almost as if you're saying I'm usually the _loud_ one with the attention span of a squirrel." When Elsa chuckles at my sarcasm, my heart performs a strange, happy leap in my chest. "Actually, I was sitting on my hand the whole time and it fell asleep. That's all."

Once we actually make it to the mall, the time is 10:30, so we decide to roam as a family until we're hungry enough for lunch in the food court. Then we'll split up: Elsa and I will take off and do whatever shopping we want while our parents will be free to wander around at as leisurely a pace as they would like.

Immediately, we all head straight for the Barnes and Noble bookstore, because if there's one thing the Andersen family can agree on, it's that books are the greatest weapons in the world. They are essential to life in our house. After a bit of perusing, we leave and walk next door to a shop that sells calendars.

It's a bit of a rough business to be in right now, because it's already the end of February. Two months into the new year, everyone who cares already has a calendar… But you know what that means – there's a banner at the door that reads, "CLEARANCE SALE! 50-75% OFF ALL CURRENT-YEAR CALENDARS."

"Oh! Come on, we have to go in there and see the calendars!" I exclaim, grabbing at everyone in range and pulling them into the store. Once inside I see I have my dad's arm in one hand and the strap of Elsa's purse in the other, having used them to drag their owners in behind me. Mom was apparently lucky enough to avoid the Splanna Zone, as it is sometimes called (like an Anna splash zone for getting dragged into things).

Immediately, I go to a rack and sense Elsa slowly following behind. Flipping through the calendars, I see Cats, Puppy Love, Skyscrapers, Landscapes, The Beatles, Nature, Horses in the Sea, Flowers, Inspirational Quotes, and so many more. I always flip them over to the back to see which pictures fall in June and August, because those are the months Elsa and I were born in.

"Oh Els, just look at this little puppy!" I gasp. "No no no, look at this sunset on the lake. Oh my God. Hey it's in August, just for you."

I turn to Elsa, who's at the rack next to me, to see if she's even paying attention. She's not; she's looking with intensity at the back of a calendar called 12 Months of Ice. "Oh, I bet that's pretty." I walk up behind her to see the little images and I'm overcome by brilliant blues and whites sparkling with all the glory of winter at its most beautiful moments.

My jaw drops as I stare at the picture Elsa is touching. An enormous close-up of a beautiful tiny snowflake glimmers back at me, bathed in sunlight, probably just seconds before it melted. The intricate, uniquely gorgeous details on each of the six sides are revealed in all their glory.

I quickly count to see what month is lucky enough to have this picture: one, two, three, four, five – _June._

"I'm getting it," Elsa says, abruptly ending the moment. She flips it over, stares at the front cover once more, and strides gracefully toward the check-out counter, pulling out cash and exact change from her wallet as she walks, having already calculated the tax.

After this we're all hungry enough to eat lunch, so we head to the food court, where all the tough decisions lay. I go with Mom to get our favorite teriyaki chicken from the Japanese place, leaving Elsa and Dad to argue over panini sandwiches or brick-oven pizza. Or Chick-Fil-A.

As we stand in line for our food, the two of them come up behind us. "We're joining you guys this time. See what all the fuss is about." Elsa tells me, leaning in to be close to my ear.

My dad wraps an arm around Mom and adds, "Mine's going to be spicy though. I'll have them make it spicy." (He likes things spicy.) (I don't get it.)

We sit by the ice rink and watch people try to skate (some succeed; most fail) while we all bond over the joined experience of eating wonderful teriyaki chicken. I'm positive we've converted Elsa and Dad; this will be the new family food court choice and it will never change. Ha!

I crack an evil-looking grin at the thought and glance at Elsa. She looks confused, but at this point she's stopped questioning my various facial expressions. "Mom and I have brain-washed you guys. Brain-food, ooh, we've brain-food-washed you."

"Anna, you don't make any sense with your mouth full," my dad offers, while chewing food.

_What?_ "I don't even have anything in my mouth!" I exclaim in exasperation.

"Well then, sweetheart, you just don't make any sense."

"Thanks, Dad. Love you, too."

This family bonding stuff is _probably_ going to kill me.


	3. Chapter 3

This might come as a big surprise but I really love shopping. With Elsa. It's like how we always used to play dress up in the play room when we were little - except better. Because now we're… older…

And we can share a fitting room!

Let me pause to clarify; nothing _happens _in this fitting room. Stop assuming things, fucking pervert.

I only enjoy it so much because it's a time for mutual admiration of the blessings of one another's bodies. I mean dress shopping is the best – obviously – because it entails stripping down to the bra and undies. And I can't really deny the fact that today we _only sought out dresses_… and we might have taken turns trying them on so the other could watch – but that's not wrong! We were being supportive of each other!

There is nothing wrong with being there to see your sister try on gorgeous clothes.

There is nothing wrong with zipping up her dress and maybe brushing your fingers across her skin more than necessary or playing with her luscious hair as you sweep it out of the way.

There is nothing wrong with taking an extremely long time to decide how to answer the question, "Is this one too tight on my boobs?" because you're too busy staring at the physical proof that the answer is yes.

…Well okay, maybe most sisters don't run into these precise situations. But I still don't think we're doing anything wrong!

And you seriously cannot blame me for the boobs thing. Elsa's boobs… holy fucking sacred reindeer shit. They are _fabulous_. God, if I ever have the opportunity to… well. Let's cross that bridge when we get there. Let's just say those lovely lady lumps won't go unappreciated, and leave it at that.

So now that we've tried on just about 20 dresses each, I've picked out two cute ones to buy (because Elsa really liked them) and she herself has three that she chose. Mine are colorful and lightweight and will be perfect for summer, while Elsa's are all some dazzling shade of blue and seem more suitable for this wintry time of year. Her dresses fit quite elegantly and are extremely flattering to her body type (which, if you are wondering, is flawless).

After we check out, we make our way back to meet up with Mom and Dad. I force Elsa to stop twice along the way to sit on a bench because while I _love_ shopping, it's too taxing on my little sleep-deprived body and I get tired out. At least it's an excuse for me to lean my head on Elsa's shoulder for a few minutes!

It's her fault, really. She's the one keeping me up all night with thoughts of her that run laps through my mind. And then when I _do_ get to sleep she fills my dreams with wild fantasies that wake me up in the dead of night, and after that happens… sleep isn't quite on the docket anymore.

It's starting to get to me, this lack of sleep. I can't take it anymore. Something's going to have to change; but for now, I can take advantage of the car ride home to squeeze in a quick nap. As soon as we take off, I settle in and lean over to rest my head on Elsa. This time, I'm in the middle section of the backseat, with our shopping bags on my left, allowing for some decent car-cuddling between Elsa and me. As soon as we get going on the highway, my eyes droop closed and the high pitched whine of pavement rushing under the car is enough to drag me under.

The nap is restless and fast-paced, and it feels like I'm half-awake most of the time. Napping in cars isn't my most effective way to sleep – but really, is _anything_ anymore? I can hear things zipping by in the car but the dream contorts it into something else, some far-off noise I can't quite place. It's possible I've never heard it before. The feeling of my body pressed against my sister's is converted into a floating cloud that I'm laying on in my sleep. The cloud is alive, and it bumps me around every once in a while as the car hits rougher stretches of road and Elsa's body moves in separate time from mine in response to the jolt.

I can sense, on some level, the drool that's dripping from my sticky cheek onto my sister's shirt, but the dream convinces me that it's okay. Maybe someone is wiping my face with a washcloth. Or maybe my cheek is squished against cold glass. Who cares? It's a dream, and it's a weird half-way dream at that. I've stopped giving a fuck.

It gets better as I begin to hear voices. Of course it's my sister and my mom having a soft conversation under the hum of highway driving, but I don't know that. In my dream I am alone. Just me and the cloud, it's really kind of quiet apart from the strange drone that I'm tuning out. So the voices are a sign to my brain that I am most definitely insane. I try to pay attention. I must hear what these crazies have to say.

"…you ever think about telling her?"

"I didn't realize I have a choice. You're the one who's forced me to keep it a secret all these years."

"That's right, but it was necessary, you were young. It was for your safety, and _hers_. Now I think she has a right to know, don't you?"

"Of course she has a right! She's _always_ had a right. But I think it's too late now. You should have either let me tell her sooner or never erased it in the first place."

"Honey it just didn't work out like tha-"

"That's not my fault! I never wanted this. I never wanted the lies; the secrecy. She'll hate me if she finds out, and I can't afford to lose her now."

"Honey, you're exaggerating. You two have a bond that can't be broken over some silly secret-"

"Silly?! Oh yeah, this whimsical little secret. Ha, how could I have ever gotten so worked up about it? It's really nothing to worry about!"

As the voices' tones begin to rise with upset inflections, my dream world is jolted slightly and I shift against Elsa, letting out a small moan.

The voices cut off, as they become aware of their mistake. But the sudden change from blaring anger to utter silence is enough to entirely kick me out of the half-dream, and I stretch against Elsa, waking up. I squint my eyes as a forceful yawn comes over me and makes me stretch uncontrollably, flinging my arm toward my sister's face.

"Sorry, Els! Oh golly…" I yawn again. "That was a weird nap. I really don't…" I stop as I notice Elsa for the first time. She's glaring at the back of Mom's seat with… are those tears in her eyes? "Elsa. Are you okay?" I touch her leg in concern, everything from the dream forgotten entirely.

I feel the tense muscles relax as her face softens and she turns to me and works hard to change her expression to something a little more cheerful. "I'm fine. Don't worry, Anna; it's nothing." Her little smile, meant to be encouraging, doesn't reach her eyes – those hurt, icy eyes – and that alone stabs a stake of worry straight into my heart.

The idea that she's blatantly hiding something from me is too painful to consider – so I ignore it, clutching her arm and snuggling back up. "…O-Okay," I say, even though it's not. I just want Elsa to be happy. God, that's all I want.

Whatever was troubling her … I want that to end.

* * *

It's almost time for dinner and something's definitely up. Whatever happened while I was sleeping in the car is causing some sort of monstrous tension between Elsa and my mom. My dad had also been sleeping but the way he's acting leads me to believe he knows what's going on, too, and he's with Mom on this one (surprise, surprise). Which means I'm the only one who's clueless about it all.

Great, now I'm caught in the middle of a fight and I don't even know what caused it…

The weirdest thing is the silence. I'm not used to silence. Bitter comments passed back and forth, sure – but silence? No way. Not _our_ family.

Yet Elsa hasn't uttered a word to our parents since I woke up from my nap, and neither have they, to her. I have spoken with both sides of the war, about unrelated topics, and all was well. So they're not mad at _me._

I guess that's good… but I can't stand them behaving like this toward each other! We're supposed to be a loving family, but when fights like these happen, I don't know what to do.

…So I usually try to fix it by pretending nothing's wrong at all! And then it's awkward and I fuck it up even worse! Go Anna! What a pro!

I won't mess up this time, though. At least that's what I tell myself as I help set the table. Mom is finishing up with preparing the food and Dad's in the living room; Elsa is nowhere in sight. With a sigh, I place our four dishes around the table, clanking each one a little bit extra, just to be making some sort of noise in the quiet house.

"Hey Mom, what silverware do we need?" I hesitantly ask. She whirls around from the stove to face me.

"Um, let's see… Forks for pasta, we don't need spoons…" she runs a hand through her soft brown bangs, thinking. "A knife for butter – could you get out the bread, honey? Slotted serving spoon for the corn…" She turned back around to finish dishing the entrée into a serving bowl. "That's it. Thanks for your help, Els- _Anna_."

The smile on my face falters as I notice her slip-up. They get our names mixed up a lot, sure. But Elsa sets the table. It's her thing. She and Mom enjoy the whole pre-dinner ritual of cooking and preparing; they talk and laugh out here for much longer than I think dinner takes. So today when my dad came to me in my room and said Mom needed help in the kitchen, I knew. This shit is serious.

I don't know if I'm ready for the inevitably silent dinner, filled only with the sounds of chewing and forks scratching on plates, but I'm sent to fetch the others. It's chow time.

I lean my head into the living room to find my dad reclining in his chair, watching Wheel of Fortune. "Time to eat!" If my sister is a momma's girl, then you could say I'm daddy's little princess. I would _love_ to sit there with him to watch the show, or play a card game, or run around outside – really anything at all would be fantastic. I love both of my parents, but my dad and I have always had that special bond.

As I turn away from the doorway to find Elsa, I hear his chair move so I know he heard me. I walk slowly to my sister's room. The door's closed.

I knock.

"Elsa?"

Nothing.

"Elsa, it's time for dinner."

I slowly twist the handle and open up her door, giving her time to stop whatever she was doing before I see. I hardly have time to notice that what she was doing was ferociously drawing before I was blasted by a shock of cold air. I instinctively rub my arms through the green sweatshirt I'm wearing. "Have you had your window open, Els? It's freezing in here!"

Instead of an answer, I get a worried look as my sister scrambles to collect her various drawings around her bed, making sure I don't see. I throw an arm across my eyes to prove I'm not trying to discover her artistic secrets. "Um… yes. I had the window open, Anna."

"Okay. Why? Nevermind," I say from behind the sweatshirt sleeve. "Let's eat, I'm starving."

Elsa has finally cleared and hidden the drawings from her bed and steps toward me. She removes my arm from my face. "I'm not very hungry, but I guess it needs to be done," she says.

"Yeah it does!" I grab her arm and drag her from her room. "Mom made a yummy-looking pasta thing – and corn!"

Elsa chuckled through the hallway, but the joy was short-lived and passed away when we neared the kitchen. Mom and Dad are sitting across from each other in their spots at the table, talking quietly. At least, they were. They're now silent and wait for us to take our seats.

The smile I'm trying so hard to keep, for the sake of all that is jolly, is quickly falling off my face as Elsa and I silently sit down at the table. A moment passes. I take a deep breath, let it out in a way that hopefully doesn't seem too awkward, and plaster on a new smile. Nothing is the matter. We're all friendly here. "So… pasta?" I suggest, as a way to get some words flowing.

Mom eventually starts telling us what she made for dinner. I relax as the silence is disrupted with her words. We all start serving ourselves and digging in, but soon the initial sounds of food being eaten are exposed again in an uncomfortable way. I lift up my face and see three others turned down to their own plate. No talking. No eye contact. Nothing.

We're halfway through the meal now and I am about to fucking explode. This has gone on far too long. I drop my fork on my plate, which startles everyone. Sitting up straight, I wipe my fingers and mouth on my napkin before clearing my throat in a very no-nonsense sort of way.

Now that I have my family's attention, I begin, "Mom, Dad, Elsa," I nod to each one, "It has not slipped past my notice that something… occurred… in the car today. On the way home from what was _meant_ to be a fun family day-trip to the mall. And, as I was asleep during this… occurrence, I have no idea what is going on. And that's okay. Go ahead; _leave_ me out of it. I'm sure it's better that way. But you don't know what it makes me feel when I see the three of you fighting like this, for some _mysterious reason_ that I apparently don't even deserve the right to know!" my voice wobbles, but I must continue, "So, we can keep up with this awful silence game, or you all can pretend to be the adults you are and meet in the living room to talk it out while I go to mine and pretend I don't exist, because apparently everyone else in this family does that on a daily basis."

With a huff I stand up from my chair, walk around the table, slightly trip over my feet, leave the kitchen, and all but run down the hallway to my room, slamming the door behind me.

I dive for my bed and bury my face in my pillow to release a cry of raw frustration. Now I'm out of breath and silent tears begin to soak into the soft fabric. Soon I'm sobbing quietly and I don't even understand why. I mean I know I'm upset and hurt by the constant feelings of inadequacy and being left out of things, but I hadn't realized I had this much emotion swirling inside the flood gates.

I suppose it _has_ been a while since I've had a good cry, a good self-pitying cry. Alone. And I guess the longer you go without shedding a tear, the more powerful your next bout of crying will be. Soon I don't remember why exactly I was crying in the first place; there are 100 better reasons that manifest themselves in my head and I only sob harder. Did I start because Elsa and my parents aren't talking? Or was it because they're treating me like a child _again_? Or was it because when I was standing up to them, they could hardly look me in the eye? Or was it because I couldn't even say those words without choking up? Or was it just because I feel like next to nothing in this family – I'm so awkward, so imperfect, so clumsy, so messed up, so not Elsa. I can't do anything right.

And they all know it.

I know they know it.

It's written all over their faces.

It shows whenever they're talking to people. _This is our older daughter, Elsa. She's graduating this year, she's going to be an artist, she's already selling her work, we can't wait for the world to discover her talents and her beauty! She's so magnificent._

_Oh and this is Anna, our youngest. She's just starting college this year. We'll see what happens, huh?_

And when I run into family friends: _Hello Anna, how's your sister doing? Where does she go again? When does she graduate? What are her plans for after? Is she excited, does she like it?_

Yeah, I'll answer those questions, but did you want to know anything about _me_ while we're standing here, talking in person? No? Alright, whatever. I don't fucking care.

Is that what this is about? That I have some deep unaddressed jealousy of my sister? I've never really considered it before… but the feelings seem to be there. It's a sobering thought and I lift my face from the uncomfortable, damp pillow. The tears have stopped. I need to think about this.

Am I bitter towards my sister? I don't know, I never _thought_ so. Does she have it better than me? Of course – she's flawless, everyone loves her. Have I been feeling inferior to her all this time? Well if I have, I didn't realize it.

This is bad. Of all the things today did to me, this was the last thing I expected. To suddenly recognize feelings of jealousy and bitterness toward the one you love most of all? Do I love her because she's better than me? _Can I even love her_, knowing now how I feel?

Of course I love her. These thoughts are silly. I'm sure I'll forget this even happened in a week and I can go back to loving her with all my heart, no envy in sight. But… maybe this is supposed to happen? Maybe I'm supposed to think about all of these reasons not to love Elsa so we can go back to being mere sisters who compete for attention like in any other family…

Maybe I should give it a try. Yes. I should try not to love Elsa. I should try to embrace these thoughts, these ideas that are pushing me away from her, because that's the right thing to do. The right thing is to end all of this before it could start, and if I have to suffer with a broken, jealous heart in the process? So what? It will be better for this family – for Elsa – that we don't get involved.

And I will do anything that's better for Elsa.

* * *

***(A/N)***

_Hello my little icicles :) This is your author speaking. Well, not _your _author. The fic's author... Anyway, hey there! I apologize profusely for the whole not-updating-in-over-a-month thing... Hopefully that won't happen again. Today this is my birthday gift to you all, because birthdays make me happy!_

_Thanks for sticking around, there's SO MUCH I PLAN TO DO WITH THIS STORY. *cackles* _

_I love youuu *cough*leave me reviews please*cough* oh my, hope I'm not catching a cold..._


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